Notes on Existence

It has occured to me recently (being when I touched the keyboard to begin this post) that my life has been ingeniously thought out by whomever wrote the transcript. Kudos, anonymous author. These coincidences that keep popping up are starting to seem less and less like coincidences, and more like well written twists in the plot. And, if anyone would like to venture an answer, why do I notice the things I do? I feel like in particular moments I pay more attention to the universe than anyone else in this entire planetary mass! How absurd a notion, right? Oh well, that's the way my brain works. Someday, maybe in my last hour, I hope I will meet the author who made this all up, and have a long, clarifying conversation in which I'll pose questions like, "Why Christmas Eve? Was that supposed to tie in to my realistic views of and on religion?" and, "What was this all for, anyway?" For now, while we remain partial strangers, I have only this to say; please keep throwing in those clever little pieces of harmonics. I promise I'll do my best to keep trying and failing at disecting the whole meaning of my humanoid existence, so long as you promise to never lose your muse and keep your reader -and your protaganist- on their toes.

The Nihilarian Speaks

I cannot even believe how harmonically intune my life is to the universe. Forgive me for however prententious or obvious or even nonsensical that sounds; I happen to pay attention to more things than it's worth. And isn't it kind of silly that experiences people "clue you in on" are often much different than forewarned? But, wouldn't life be less of an adventure if you knew exactly what to expect, and where it's going to strike? Despite my slight eremiticism I enjoy spontaneity (and knowing how to spell it :D).

I'm so strange.

I've never died my hair; never left the continent; I've eaten a yogurt covered cricket; I have a strange affinity for stuffed animals; I love narwhals; I have a comic book collection; I will own all 20 of the care bears comics; I read more often than anyone probably should; I buy a bunch of fabric and tend to never use it; I've really only swam in one ocean, I'll let you guess which; (insert some more only halfway interesting things about me here) and I'm very good at guessing things.

"The only dream worth having is to dream that you will live while you are alive, and die only when you are dead. To love, to be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and vulgar disparity of the life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget." - Arundhati Roy

Procrastination..

There's less than three weeks left before school begins, and I've yet to begin my summer assignment. This whole thing is quite silly, seeing as it's journaling prompts, which I enjoy. Yet for some strange reason (I'm thinking lack of motives, maybe.), I just can't even fathom my sitting down and doing them. With any luck, they will someday come up with an antidote to lethargy. For now, though, the impending due date and threatened GPA will have to suffice.

Dear You,

Let's have a metaphysical conversation, and work little smidgens of our growing knowledge of psychology in it. We can stay up all night discussing the concept of behind, and whether that rubber duckie really was eavesdropping on us, and in the morning, I'll make us french toast with nutella. Then, we'll have adventures walking along Burnt Bridge Creek, and laugh when we associate the seemingly deserted farmhouse with Beatrix Potter. I'll explain to you that place I remember being so long ago, and you'll tell me you thought you were somewhere similar one time when you didn't remember you were an infant. As the afternoon winds down, you can teach me how to ride a bike while listening to my collection of songs from bands neither of us have ever heard of. Next, I'll confide in you that most of my childhood memories seem like hallucinations, and we'll spend the rest of the night guessing why. Before the sun rises, though, we'll walk around my neighborhood eating Root Beer popsicles and converse on whether drugs should be legal, and alcohol illegal. We'll make our way back sometime around seven a.m., and just as we fall asleep, my polydactyl cat will come downstairs and fall asleep on your face. What do you say?

Sincerely, Me

One Spectacular Entrance!

Sam has arrived on blogspot! And she's blaming this whole ordeal on you guys. I mean, really, it's not like I ever update, let alone visit my website, and what with you all cranking out blogs left and right-- I figured my blogs shouldn't stay confined to my myspace account. (Again, mostly because none of you have myspaces. Come on! And for those of you who do, that was -obviously- not directed at you. You know how things go, it's confusing when half of your people are on myspace and facebook, and the others are.. internet hermits, shall we say?) Hmm. Oh well, I'm here to stay now, so we might as well get used to it, eh? For those of you who -gasp!- don't know me, I'm a minor whose mind is going non-stop. I've had more life experiences then you would expect from most adolescents, and I have a growing journal of everything I want to do in my life. I swim alot, and like to run. I dislike participating in most sports, and find them quite unpractical, if rude. I'll go to your soccer/ basketball/ track meets, though, and cheer you on louder than anyone else on the entire field. I like art, in practically every sense of the word.

Now you know more about me-- tell me some things about you.